


evening of the seventh

by seaofolives



Series: As Time Goes By and Other Stories [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Folklore, Gladnis Fanwork Bingo (Final Fantasy XV), M/M, POV Ignis Scientia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:29:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29715123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaofolives/pseuds/seaofolives
Summary: Ignis laughed as though he was gasping for breath, barely able to keep his beaming delight to himself as his special someone grinned back. Now he understood why everyone liked these kinds of things. “I was wondering where you were. I should have known you would be dressed as a garula.”“That supposed to be a compliment?” his garula joked back. “You didnʼt make it easy for me either. Do you know how many people are dressed as Messengers in this room alone?”“Before youʼd found me, there was actually someone who mistook me for their Messenger,” Ignis shared all too happily, still a little high from having been discovered.“Yeah? Well, best of luck to them but,” the garula glanced around the room one last time before he offered his hand, “Iʼm ready to get outta here. What do you say?”
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Series: As Time Goes By and Other Stories [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915984
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	evening of the seventh

**Author's Note:**

> MAN how long has it been since i posted smth new for my gladnis calendar challenge? i actually thought about delaying this and posting it on the month itself but lbr, who am i to make rules for myself? anyway!
> 
> prompts: brotherhood, formal event, bed sharing, assassin's festival, intimacy  
> month: july

_He could be anywhere,_ he thought, and somehow that alone was enough to paralyze him. Keep him closer to the wall than to the people who filled the ballroom with their swaying gowns, their swishing coat tails, their bright laughter of having found _the one_. Count on the Crown City to take some tradition from the regions beyond and mint it into one of their own. Behind their masks, their elaborate costumes, they were supposed to be assassins, hiding in the shadows to overcome their oppressors. And then a wealthy family turned it into a romantic masquerade, fit for the royal family. And everyone liked that. 

Ignis wouldnʼt say he didnʼt like it either. All this secrecy, all this state-sanctioned hiding, he was benefiting from it now. Even though the silver mask around his eyes, a glittery crescent that speared upwards, kept sliding down to his nose bridge and he kept having to push it back up. Or that his silver cravat was probably soaked with sweat now since his three piece suit, deep blue like the night with silver stars embroidered on his outer robe, was made only from the finest silk. Not exactly the most breathable fabric of choice. On top of that, it was a bit too long and flowy than he was used to, and it would be difficult to move in if push came to shove. 

Still, he signed up for this, and he wasnʼt ready to give up now just because everything was a little too over-the-top for him and he really wouldnʼt mind if he just went back home and cleaned his desk like he kept promising himself to. _They_ promised _themselves_ that this would be worth it, too. He had to try. He had to try for him and for them. 

He took one step towards the crowd. 

A hand accosted his elbow and yanked him sideways. He almost tripped on his robes and had to grab his mask in case the ribbon decided to just snap on him. Ignis was still finding his balance when his captor recited to him, almost in a song:

“Sing for me, oh sweetest of Messengers! I yearn for your trill and the beauty you behold!” He had a hat, a white mask and a long black cape which he waved dramatically outwards. Ignis recognized the character right off the bat. 

His words not so much. A little awkwardly, he fished for the card he hid in his cuff and inspected the words embossed on it. 

“Iʼm…” Ignis tipped his head. “Sorry but Iʼm afraid you tried to woo the wrong Messenger.” To explain, he showed the stranger his card. 

The caped man dipped low to read it, started then immediately bowed low to him. “Sorry! Sorry, I mistook your costume.” 

“Itʼs quite all right,” Ignis assured him. Tonight, everyone who joined the royal masquerade was provided a card and a costume to wear. Then they were supposed to find their matches using those two alone, but the challenge was that they didnʼt know what their partnerʼs costume looked like. And even worse: _who_ they were. 

So this stranger was quite possibly looking for another stranger. 

“Good luck looking for them,” Ignis said as they parted. 

“You, too!” And with a wave, the caped man strode off. 

Ignis whistled, holding onto the card. If tonight was going to be more of that, was he sure he knew what he had gotten himself into? 

He took another two steps closer to the crowd. 

Somehow, he knew it—felt it first before he even heard the weight of footsteps shuffling behind him. It was just this weird thing they both have, an awareness of each otherʼs place in the room. As if theyʼd grown together, stood together and worked together for so long, theyʼve finally developed a strange kind of, possibly imaginative, psychic link with each other. “Oh gods,” the man said in his heavy voice, echoing his thoughts. Ignis whirled around. 

And found him, standing just an arm span and a half away from him. In a black mask with a pair of stunted horns, a heavy black cloak covered in short fur and a dark red, almost brown vest over his black shirt, paired by trousers of the same color. “May your skies remain open and the magpies be merciful,” he invoked to the Astrals. 

And led Ignis to take a brave step towards his partner as he connected, “So that I may cross the river of my tears upon their wings.” The words flowed out like a spell through his lips. 

“My heart and my yearning,” they spoke as one, meeting in the middle, “they are there, waiting for me.” Perfect. Down to the last inflection. 

Ignis laughed as though he was gasping for breath, barely able to keep his beaming delight to himself as his special someone grinned back. Now he understood why everyone liked these kinds of things. “I was wondering where you were. I should have known you would be dressed as a garula.” 

“That supposed to be a compliment?” his garula joked back. “You didnʼt make it easy for me either. Do you know how many people are dressed as Messengers in this room alone?” 

“Before youʼd found me, there was actually someone who mistook me for their Messenger,” Ignis shared all too happily, still a little high from having been discovered. 

“Yeah? Well, best of luck to them but,” the garula glanced around the room one last time before he offered his hand, “Iʼm ready to get outta here. What do you say?” 

Ignis couldnʼt have raised his hand faster when he clasped the garula’s fingers. His palm was warm, a little damp with sweat, rough from training. It was everything he dreamed of, everything he could want. 

With everyone enclosed in their own private merriments, it was easy for them to slip past the room and escape the building. That alone made the entire charade worth it from Ignis who had to press a fist on his smile to stop himself from laughing. 

Out in the night, they made like assassins, breezing past the clueless party goers, dancing in the streets in their own fancy costumes, everyone with places to go. Ignis could feel his heart pounding in his chest, jumping like a child, full of love and wonder. They turned down one side street and then the next, almost slamming into a group of three couples. They gasped and then laughed the near accident off, running onwards to their destination. 

His garula eventually led him to a bright hotel lobby with a small chandelier up top, its waiting chairs fully occupied. Ignis tried to blink back the sweat off his eyelashes but until he could remove the mask, that would be impossible. 

He waited awkwardly by some potted tree, having nowhere to sit and nothing else to look at, while his partner chatted with the concierge. 

And then he was marching for him, waving a stylish keycard before their hands joined again. They hurried to the lift that had just opened up to let out a party of four happy masks. His garula punched the _close_ button and then their number. 

Their exciting trip to their hotel room came to an awkward conclusion as they walked calmly down the quiet corridor, fingers still linked but both of them too stiff under the public eye to do much else despite their flamboyant costumes. They came upon a room at the end of the path. 

Ignis stepped in first. Turned around to wait for his garula to come in after him, and for the lock to click. That was the signal heʼd been dying for before he reached for the knot at the back of his head—

“Hey.” His special person stopped him, hurrying to his spot. “I wanna do that. Let me do that.” 

Ignis had no complaints. He nodded, brought his hands to his sides so that his garula could pull the ribbon and finally peel the mask from him. Finally, he felt like he could breathe again, and the room seemed brighter even with only the moonlight through the window to see by. His garula reached back to undo his own string. 

He felt like he had to swallow his heart and his lungs to force them back down inside him when he watched his beloved man lift his own mask, those amber eyes glowing with his handsome smirk. 

Ignis felt like his chest was about to burst. “It _is_ you.” He cupped his smooth jaw, relief pouring out of him in waves. 

“‘sif you had any doubts,” Gladio chuckled, just before he brought their lips together, and his arm around his back to pull him closer. 

Warmth filled him through the lips, like sweet ambrosia from the godsʼ garden. Ignis wondered if he was finally overheating with how weak he felt in his knees that he had to grasp on the fur of Gladioʼs cloak just to keep himself upright. The smell of the man was intoxicating, full of his spicy perfume, his sweat and his heat. He might have moaned with how heady this was making him, obsessed with the trembles of Gladioʼs lips, its salt, its fire, its softness and caress. 

In the end, he had to part his lips and draw in breath, and it was too late for him to realize that that had been Gladioʼs point all along. Through the little space he made, he felt his wet tongue slither in. Ignis had barely come to grasp himself when he was already diving back into the mouthy kiss, strong arms locking Gladioʼs neck in place. Gladioʼs tongue moved playfully in his mouth, darting in and out like a snake, filling him with such thoughts. 

He lost, had to pull back before he fainted even before the night started. Ignis felt the heat creeping up to his cheeks while Gladio nudged his profile sideways so he could suck his sweat right off his temple and cheeks. Ignis shuddered, willing himself to fall harder against his chest. All this time, Gladio was finally working their clothes off. 

First, his cloak made of short fur, then his starry robe. Ignis felt grateful, as if heʼd been given a new life. 

He kissed him again on his lips, asked for passage with a little poke from his tongue before he slipped right through and explored Gladioʼs cavern like an eager tourist. This time, he kept his hands busy, deft fingers undoing those pesky buttons of his vest easily until he could shrug them off his man. And then from the top, his shirt… 

Beaten to it—though Gladio had cheated. As soon as he finally figured out how that damn cravat worked he slipped it off Ignisʼ neck and ripped his shirt open, his brutal hands shaking as he pulled. Ignis would have been embarrassed with the noise he made if it hadnʼt been Gladio. Or the way he jumped when the manʼs thirsty mouth landed on the arc of his neck, lapping for more sweat. 

Ignis moaned his name; Gladio was practically carrying him now. He loved being trapped in this place—his desire, his arms, his scent, his heat. When he felt the air under his feet, he carried his knees up to the trunk of Gladioʼs waist and locked his legs around him, clinging to his hard shoulders. 

He landed heavily on the bed, opening up his legs while Gladio finally finished the task with his shirt and shrugged it off him. Ignis felt like an animal, the way he licked his lips on sight of his strong chest, reached for it to fill his palms with his pecs. 

Gladioʼs sunny smile rose on his face, his cheer rising from within him. Ignis felt it in his hands. His fingers worked attentively on Ignisʼ own vest, whatever was left of the buttons on his shirt. 

Then he peeled them open and excavated Ignis from the fabric so that he landed on his lap. The sudden chill, of being set free like a babe from his motherʼs womb, caused him to shudder, goosebumps trailing down his flesh. He clung to Gladioʼs naked heat, while his tongue lapped along his shoulder like a pet again. And like a cat, he did mewl, toes curling as he wrapped his legs around his man. His pants felt happily full and tight. 

_Can you feel it?_ he asked, he thought, when he ground himself to Gladioʼs hard stomach, sending shivers down his feet. He did it again and finally Gladio responded, cupping him from the back and squeezing hard so that he felt it for sure through the layers of fabric. Ignis gasped, dancing blissfully on his lap, holding onto that sweet tension. 

When Gladio returned him to his pillow, his flushed skin met the cool cotton of the bedsheets, and Ignis laid himself out in complete vulnerability while Gladio trailed kisses downwards to his waist as he worked his belt free.

—

What once was filled with moans and the desperate cries of two lovers meeting again and again in ecstasy had fallen silent, in what seemed like the first time that night.

Now all Ignis could feel was the beating of Gladioʼs heart as he laid on his strong chest, drawing idle patterns on his damp flesh. Gladioʼs finger moved in the same way on his nape. 

“You feeling good?” Gladio croaked to him. From where he laid, he felt the thunder of his voice in his ear, and it thrilled him. 

Ignis nodded, still working on his invisible masterpiece. “A little worn,” he confessed. “But how should I say this…a little worn but happy because itʼs you.” With a barely hidden smile, he snuggled closer to his chest, steeping himself in his heat and odour. Gladio chuckled deeply, and he felt that, too. “Itʼs the best feeling.” 

“Did I hurt you?” 

Ignis nodded again. “A little,” there was no sense lying about it, they both understood how powerful and brutal he could be, “but I liked that part, too.” 

“Iʼm sorry,” Gladio apologized all the same. 

Ignis glanced up to him, then crawled his way to his lips so he could press a kiss on them. First one, and then another. 

Gladio wrapped him in his arms and one leg, pressing them both flush against each other in the process as he laid Ignis next to him. 

This way they could look at each other more closely and comfortably. Gladio carried his head on his hand, smiling down on Ignisʼ contentment. “We should do this more often.” Famous last words. 

Ignis sighed, loud and long. With his fingers, he traced the bump of his biceps, hopped down his folded elbow and continued the journey down the curve of his waist, up the hill of his hip bone. “Would that we could,” he said. “Oh, I do want it.” He retraced his path from the shoulder. “Some days, itʼs enough for me to meet in secret but sometimes…” He shook his head. “I crave for this. You inside me, the heat of your touch, the salt on your flesh…” He closed his eyes. “Sometimes, I even dream about them, though I feel so empty when I wake up.” 

“Well open your eyes, gorgeous.” He did, and those handsome ambers, reminiscent of warm coffee in the morning, met him. “‘cause this ainʼt a dream.” 

Thank the gods it wasnʼt. They were kind to them tonight. Ignis smiled. 

He boosted himself up slightly to meet Gladio in a kiss, then settled back down his pillow while Gladio carried his leg up over his, so he could run his rough hand idly on the skin under it. It sent a joyous thrill up Ignisʼ shoulder, and made him smile. 

“How did you do it, by the way?” he asked, out of the blue. “The point of the ball was to be paired with a stranger on this magical evening. How did you bring us both together?” 

“I rigged it,” Gladio explained, as if that wasnʼt obvious yet. “I snooped around and found out who the council was. Befriended one of them, waved my name a little. Didnʼt take much for ‘em to fix us up. But now I gotta sneak some booze from my dadʼs collection as a token of appreciation.” 

“I believe that will be more difficult,” Ignis chuckled, tickled with his little joke. 

“You make it worth the trouble,” Gladio told him, smile spreading like butter on his face. If it were something he could eat, Ignis thought it would also have a pinch of cinnamon and cayenne on it, maybe some pepper. 

A food for the gods. Ignis exhaled again quietly. “The lengths we have to go through just to meet up like this.” His eyes wandered down to his strong chest. He ran a hand over it again. “Other lovers could simply come together for dinner. As for us, we literally have to wait for the stars to align.” He laughed for their sad fate. 

“I swear, Iʼm gonna miss you tomorrow,” Gladio joined him. “But even if it feels like itʼs just once a year, Iʼm already damn grateful for this moment with you.” 

“We truly are like our costumes,” Ignis said, tracing the valley between the swell of Gladioʼs pecs with his thumb. That hand under his leg soon abandoned it to bring his own hand to Gladioʼs lips, so he could kiss the palm. “The Garulaherd and the Messenger. She would have been the seventh Astral if not for her love for the herder. Then the gods drew a river of stars between them, just as the Crown does for us, our duty the river.” 

“Me, I liked the part where the herderʼs favorite garula sacrificed herself so he could wear her fur and ascend to the Astrals undercover,” Gladio shared. He would know the story by heart, of course. More than Ignis, he was the reader. He was the one with a romantic heart. Ignis only followed him around, like a moth too enamored by the light. “Because of her, they could meet up like this once a year.” 

“Across a bridge of wings.” Ignis smiled. “Did you assign us these characters, as well?” 

Gladio shook his head. “I could be the opera guy or the poor bookworm who fell in love with his rich classmate, as long as Iʼll see you on the other end.” 

“My, you do like your tragedies, Mr. Amicitia,” Ignis laughed quietly again. He brought his hand to cup Gladioʼs cheek and ran his thumb along its arc. “Now I yearn to be the first romance you would love.” 

“Like hell Iʼd let us end up in a tragedy,” Gladio rebutted, carrying his hand again so he could bring his pulse to his lips. “I know our relationshipʼs kinda taboo but I like to see us more as an underdog.” 

“I really wish Noct would just grow up already,” Ignis sighed, watching his lover trail down the path to his biceps. “Perhaps the Crown would become more lenient towards us then.” 

“I ainʼt waiting,” Gladio came up after he kissed the pit of Ignisʼ arm. Ignis shifted himself to his back, running his fingers through Gladioʼs dark hair, mussing up his short locks. He loved them, they were soft, and thick. “They could put a war between our Houses but I wonʼt let that stop us from meeting.” He brought his hand down between Ignisʼ legs. 

“Mayhaps youʼre reading too much into this, Lord Amicitia,” Ignis giggled, carrying his knees high. A pleasant tremor filled his chest when he felt Gladioʼs finger teasing him, perking him up. “Mayhaps I could offer a suitable distraction to your weary mind.” 

“Mm, I doth liketh the soundeth of that.” They became a chorus of snickering lovers before Gladio silenced them both with a kiss. Ignis shifted himself lower and raised his hips higher as he goaded his loverʼs fingers. Their mouths, he filled with a happy moan.

—

In the early morning, they stepped out into the sleeping world of Insomnia after the festival. It was at an hour where the skies were just about turning light, but still too dark to catch the sun. In their costumes, robe, cloak and masks in hand, they hailed a taxi and rode first to Ignisʼ apartment.

“And what will you tell your family if they ask you about the hour?” Ignis whispered, letting some anxiety slip through his voice. Between them, under layers of stars and fur, they held each otherʼs hands. 

“Iʼll tell ‘em the truth,” Gladio answered easily with a shrug. Ignis stared at him in some shock. “Iʼll tell ‘em I met someone over the bridge and I was tired so I slept somewhere else first.” A grin split his face like a river. 

Ignis nudged him as a revenge for the little scare before he shifted farther so he could rest his head on his shoulder, pick up his scent under the layers of hotel body wash to take with him like a souvenir. 

With the lack of traffic, they arrived at his apartment in under 10 minutes. Too soon. 

But Ignis wasnʼt one to push his luck. It was because of his prudence, after all, that they could still risk it all for one night. “Call me in the morning,” he told his lover who stepped out with him, pulling him closer by their entwined fingers. Standing in front of the timid entrance, this was his last chance with him. “Tell me how much you miss me.” 

“Iʼll dream about you,” Gladio replied, nodding. “And Iʼll tell you all about that, too.” 

It made Ignis smile. “I should like that,” he said. 

They met, for one last time, in a deep kiss, Ignis committing his flavors to his memory. They parted too soon but he mastered his need and watched Gladio step back in the taxi, waving him goodnight. 

Up in his bedroom, he brought out the card heʼd been preserving inside the cuff of his robe, reading again the words he had already memorized:

_Oh gods, may your skies remain open and the magpies be merciful,_  
So that I may cross the river of my tears upon their wings,  
My heart and my yearning, they are there, waiting for me. 

He kissed it, and put it down beside a framed picture of him and his lover in a secret meeting. Once, those words had seemed like a precarious password that he kept deep in his heart, as though he were a spy. Now, they had the weight of the godsʼ divine promise. 

They would meet again, across the bridge, in time. And may they live happily ever after, then.

**Author's Note:**

> i used a lot of romances here as inspiration!
> 
> 1\. gladio and ignis' costumes: the cowherd and the weaver girl  
> 2\. the npc who mistook ignis, the opera guy: the phantom of the opera  
> 3\. poor bookworm who fell in love with his rich classmate: the butterfly lovers (which is my all-time favorite chinese tale so yes, this is going to get a gladnis au very soon, watch this space)  
> 4\. war between their houses: romeo and juliet
> 
> thanks a lot for reading! o/


End file.
